


Staring

by burningberry



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: F/M, some of the other pastas are slightly mentioned as well!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:01:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29022387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burningberry/pseuds/burningberry
Summary: He didn't realize how tired he was from being looked down on until he met someone who didn't treat him like that. That person, who any reasonable person would adress as 'dangerous', never cared about what she said or how offensive her comments could be. She was always up for a fight, she didn't care too much about how injured she'd get afterwards, the adrenaline made up for it. She was just like that, why would she treat him any differently?
Relationships: Natalie Ouellette | Clockwork/Tobias Erin "Toby" Rogers | Ticci Toby, Ticciwork
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Staring

**Author's Note:**

> He didn't realize how tired he was from being looked down on until he met someone who didn't treat him like that. That person, who any reasonable person would adress as 'dangerous', never cared about what she said or how offensive her comments could be. She was always up for a fight, she didn't care too much about how injured she'd get afterwards, the adrenaline made up for it. She was just like that, why would she treat him any differently?

He could not stop looking at her.

It wasn't even on purpose, he would just be spacing out and suddenly he'd realize that what he was looking at was her delicate arms, her chocolate milk hair and any other place that his eyes would want to feast on. But he wasn't exactly happy about his new habit. He had things to do, people to help, people to eliminate and people to serve.  
This was taking over his life before he could do anything to stop it.

His friends were the ones to point this out to him. Worried yet slightly amused expressions would take over their faces. First it was deep brown eyes that changed looks, then foxy red ones, then black, glitchy ones and finally sky blue eyes with a tinge of grey in them. They would all look at him when he'd snap out of it, and the corners of their lips would slighty curve upwards. Some of them wouldn't try to hide their amusement. Perhaps this was sweet to them. The young, silly, loud one of the group had finally 'blossomed'. But he didn't feel like any of those things.

Sure, he would joke around sometimes. His elite sense of humour would make a lot of people snicker and even laugh, which was impressive, because the people he was friends with weren't exactly people who'd smile easily. Most of them were depressed. The horrible experiences they had gone through had taken the life out of their eyes. They would act like they didn't care about anything anymore, but he knew better. He knew they were scared. He'd see how they would constantly think about things they could have done differently, how they aspired to be happier. 

But alas, they'd be too exhausted to take the necesarry actions. They had killed, tortured and made their names known for the grosteque things they had done. They'd be killed in a heartbeat if they dared to take a step in society again, so there wasn't much that could be helped at this point.

The exhaustion that dawned on them would lead to a lot of fights. Sometimes someone would decide that it was their turn to be salty, and the attitudes wouldn't go unnoticed.  
He was tired of fights though. He was tired of witnessing them all the time. He was already at a wreck when it came to his emotions, so getting into fights was out of question. He still had arguments here and there, but that didn't stop him from trying to avoid any sort of conflict. That had its consequences though, as people had labeled him as an innocent, naive kid who would not realize when people would make backhanded comments at him.

He didn't realize how tired he was from being looked down on until he met someone who didn't treat him like that. That person, who any reasonable person would adress as 'dangerous', never cared about what she said or how offensive her comments could be. She was always up for a fight, she didn't care too much about how injured she'd get afterwards, the adrenaline made up for it. She was just like that, why would she treat him any differently? 

He immidiately judged her. His co-worker and friend brought her home and she already was stirring the whole place up. He didn't appreciate her ruining the peaceful mood that he so carefully created. Soon enough, they'd spit comments at each other, would give each other hurtful nicknames and even attempt to get things physical, but of course, there were other people there and they always intervened. 

A specific friend of him with a permanent expression on his face told him at some point that their whole hatred towards each other was unnecessary. Apparently she was pretty cool. He couldn't help but scoff. He never hated her though, he knew that she probably wasn't always the way she was. He decided after his little talk with his friend that he would be nicer to her. 

Only, he couldn't. 

She got on his nerves. He'd be so frustrated with her that his anger would remind him of her when he was on missions. Certain details of her appareance which he didn't realize he paid attention to would come up in his mind ever so often. Her uneven hair, her sickly green eye, the way she'd raise her eyebrows and the way her lips would form a very mocking smile. 

One day, when he was returning home, he caught a glimpse of her sitting by a tree lazily, looking at the trees and the sky that enveloped them in its presence. He had never seen her so focused. She was swaying a little to the right bit by bit, he figured she didn't realize as she was so out of it. He looked at her eye, and as unnatural as its colour was, he found himself not minding it anymore. It looked a little cool, actually. 

She suddenly looked right at him. He recoiled, and took a step back. She narrowed her eye at him, making it very clear that she didn't like being watched. She got up but hesitated before she bared her teeth at him, to which he only slightly grumbled at. This was a perfect place for a fight, as no one was around to interrupt. He felt like he didn't want to though, so he only exchanged defensive looks with her. Soon enough he realized that she could have drawn her weapons out and try to attack him, but to his surprise, she didn't. For such a wild cat like her, this was something that he didn't expect. 

At some point, the boss called for them, and they walked back home.

No one made a sound. 

After that, they started to talk with each other. He couldn't help but ask her why she didn't just dismiss him and why she just treated him the way she treated everyone. She raised her eyebrow at that. She was clearly mocking him, but he didn't care. She told him that he wasn't any different from the others and that he deserved the same respect. That respect being very low in amount, but still, the same kind of respect. He didn't reply, he just left. Her face was still fixed with the same expression. A part of him longed to warm up at her features, and he wondered why. When he reached his room, he realized. That insulting look was kind of attractive. 

She probably didn't mean to make him think that he was mocking her though. That contradicted her words. 

And it went on, just like that. Slowly, she started to smile at him when he made a rather offensive nickname for her. He attempted to make a joke around her, and she looked unimpressed. He realized that he had to get his game up. So he spent time with her, and she let him.

Without even realizing it, they got closer. He got shy around her, not annoyed or afraid. She got playful with him, not on edge. They formed this unspoken understanding, and that turned into a bond that he grew to fall in love with. Her smile was beautiful, and he loved the way her lips tasted. She would look at his eyes a lot, and hug him just so that he couldn't see her flushed face. She had a reputation, after all.

And now, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He couldn't believe that she existed sometimes. But she was very real. Her messy yet shiny hair was real. Her nose, her mouth and her cheekbones were real. The hums she made when she was in charge of cleaning were real. Her strong, feminine calves were real. Her taste in music was real. Her soothing voice when he had a nightmare was real. Her love was real. 

He frowned at the fact that he basically admitted to himself that he was indeed staring at her. But how couldn't he? He never knew anyone like her before. He never felt like that before. He always felt a little one-sided in his previous relationships with his family and friends. She wanted him as much as he wanted her though. She'd make it really clear when she'd make him promise that he'd come back to her after he left for his mission, alive and in one piece. When he'd tell her that she couldn't kick his ass if he died, she'd reply with an agressive 'Damn it, I'll find a way!'. 

He blinked, only to realize he was looking at her again. Her back was to him, but she was in front of a glass pane on the oven, so she very well could have seen him look at her.  
He looked at her through her reflection, and when their eyes locked, she just smirked rather than narrowing her eye at him like she'd done before when she caught him staring for the first time. 

He smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I didn't edit this so if there are any mistakes, now you know why. I realize that there aren't too many Ticciwork fanfics in this site, so I decided to write one here. Constructive criticism is encouraged and appreciated! <3


End file.
